


Harry Potter and The Hogwarts Hero Academy

by multinerdy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - My Hero Academia Fusion, Alternate Universe - Quirks (My Hero Academia), DO NOT have to have seen MHA to understand, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Faculty and Draco mainly mentioned, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Harry is Quirkless and in Support, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Sane Tom Riddle, Slice of Life, Tom is Insufferable, Tom is a Hero Student, Worldbuilding, business partners to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multinerdy/pseuds/multinerdy
Summary: Harry Potter didn't have superpowers.Now, that wouldn't be an upsetting claim to those who lived, say, a hundred years ago. However, in a world where over 80% of the population possessed uncanny powers called 'quirks,' it was devastating.Tom Riddle, on the other hand, is one of the top three Hero students, possessing a killer quirk and a mind to back it up.He also was a complete, pompous bastard.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 4
Kudos: 95





	Harry Potter and The Hogwarts Hero Academy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! This is my first Tomarry fic, and really my first fic that I remember finishing. I really hope you all enjoy, please go easy! It took me a long time and many drafts to get to this point. Again, You don't have to have watched My Hero Academia to get this. 
> 
> For those who have though, I want to note that I made it so only hero students participate in the Sports Festival so Harry doesn't have his own pressure to get ready to compete on top of helping Tom. Also it just makes no sense to have them fight anyways, but that's besides the point lmao. 
> 
> I'll define some terms at the end that you can go back to if you need!

Harry Potter didn't have superpowers. 

Now, that wouldn't be an upsetting claim to those who lived, say, a hundred years ago. However, in a world where over 80% of the population possessed uncanny powers called 'quirks,' it was devastating. 

Harry's Godfather just about fainted when the physician told them. Harry was six years old, trying to look anywhere but towards the chair next to him as shaky sobs escaped the older man. Sirius Black, once a notable professional hero, had been looking forward to Harry getting his quirk. These powers were genetic, and a part of Sirius was hoping that the boy would gain a quirk that was a mix of his deceased parents. A sign they were there, watching over Harry and Sirius. Proud. 

That didn't come to pass. 

At first, Harry was crushed to hear the news; he came from a dynasty of professional 'pro' heroes, for god's sake. His parents had died in the line of duty. As a child, Harry had dreamed of continuing their legacy: protecting the world from supervillains. His diagnosis felt like the death of that dream. 

But Harry Potter is nothing if not resilient. At times it seemed his Godfather was more upset by his powerless status than Harry himself. For a while, they were distant. That time was one of the big reasons Harry had trouble swallowing the news. Even though, in hindsight, the information wasn't all that surprising. Kids started developing their powers at four years old, and Harry went to the doctor two years after that. Still, felt like he'd failed those around him, his parents - his Godfather. 

Sirius eventually came around. He always did.

Harry instead found new avenues to preserve his parent's legacy, to feel like he could do something to better the world, pursuing the same mission they died for. He found gadgets. 

It started with tinkering. Sirius hoarded all of his old hero support items in the attic, his Godfather having retired after his parent's accident to take care of him. When Harry first encountered the pile - a few arm braces and a worn chest plate - he wondered if Sirius had planned to pass the pieces onto him when he became a pro-hero, if he hadn't been quirkless. 

Harry took to fiddling with the pieces when he wasn't really talking to Sirius, almost immediately after his sentence to live as a powerless nobody in a world full of powerful somebodies. He'd pull the pieces apart, restoring the rusted metals and rewiring as he saw fit, conducting little research projects. 

Sirius didn't catch on for a while, not until Harry explicitly showed him. Harry was shocked by how much his Godfather loved it. The veteran hero never really understood superhero tech, leaving it to the professionals and merely requesting what he needed when necessary. He found it cool that Harry could do something he couldn't. Something _James_ couldn't. Maybe Harry's newfound hobby was one of the first times Sirius truly differentiated the boy from his late father, his best friend. 

Harry was proud of himself, finally feeling seen after weeks of the two avoiding each other. From then on, Sirius was his greatest supporter, using his family wealth to provide his godson with any material and tools needed to continue his little projects. 

It was a natural progression to attend Hogwarts, Europe's most prominent hero academy, and Sirius and his parents' alma-matter when he came of age. Of course, they had been hero students for the Hero Course, but Harry still felt good that he got into the Support Course. Patenting new designs and promoting your work to the various supporting companies to distribute to the new generation of heroes! Harry was ecstatic when he got the letter. 

Now though? Harry currently wishes he'd never gone to Hogwarts. Because if he'd never gone to Hogwarts, Harry would never have met Thomas Marvolo Riddle. 

Tom was an attractive guy - charming - a teacher's pet. One of the top three Hero students, possessing a killer quirk and the mind to back it up. He also was a complete, pompous bastard. 

"Tom, I already told you that the material won't be ready until next week-" 

"Listen, _Harold_ \- I commissioned this piece, my goddamn hero suit, a month ago. I am your most promising client, you do not want to burn this bridge before we graduate." Tom was much taller than him, so to get his point across, the hero student slammed his palms on the other's workbench. They glared at each other intensely.

"First off, my name is not Harold, and I _know_ you know that because I've told you so many times." Tom smirked at this. Harry wanted to slap him. 

"Second, you commissioned me to make an _entirely new_ mesh fabric that supports your quirk while at the same time covering your entire body. I have to hand-weave this shit, you asshole. There's like metal alloy infusions and-" 

Tom waved his hand dismissively. It was as if the suit's innate details, which would become the central part of his hero suit, wasn't worth his time. More like _Harry_ wasn't worth his time. Harry knew there was quirk prejudice at Hogwarts, that he was one of the few quirkless students ever accepted. People, like Tom - Harry suspected - viewed him as little more than a side piece. He'd made it his mission to prove those bigots wrong. 

"Potter, just get it _done._ You know the Sport's Festival is coming up, and I will not sacrifice my winning streak based on your inability to thread a needle." Tom was hissing his words out at this point, which Harry thought was a bit on the nose, due to the nature of the other's quirk. 

Tom Riddle had a snake-based transformation/emitter type quirk. It had many factors, and Harry thought it was a miracle that the guy didn't look snake-like when he wasn't using it. The only tell? His bright red eyes. Tom used his unnatural trait to his advantage when trying to intimidate enemies or harassing innocent support gear engineers like Harry. 

He could generate thick shielding scales, produce potent venom, elongate his teeth, and other many abilities that Tom took every opportunity to brag about to Harry. You know, for a guy who claimed to keep his cards close to his chest, he was very eager to regale Harry with stories of his _exceptional_ abilities. Harry was unsure if the habit was a way for the other to rub in his quirklessness or a genuine attempt to impress him. 

"Well, then _leave me alone!_ Can't get your fancy suit done if you keep talking my ear off." With that, Tom scoffed and retreated from the Hogwarts Design Studio. Large metal doors slamming shut behind him with such force it could cause an earthquake. 

Tom asked Harry to create a fabric that would both aerate and insulate him simultaneously; every quirk has a weakness (the degree of which varies), and Tom's caused his skin to dry out quickly when fighting. Reptiles need humidity to keep their moisture; Tom was similar but couldn't afford to stay in a controlled environment if he was to go pro. It was a complete contradiction and took Harry a full two weeks of research to even come up with a rough draft. 

He'd been working with Tom for years now, and every year before the Sports Festival the guy found a way to come up with the most outrageous proposals that would stump Harry for days at a time. It was borderline torture, Harry groused. Tom had a penchant for playing mind games. 

Harry stared at the swatch of fabric, still clenched in his fist. It was black - for stealth - and tightly stitched, but it wasn't stiff; rather bendable to suit any complicated moves Tom might pull in battle. Harry was still working out how to make the fabric breathable. Tom was working on expanding his poison properties for combat, needing the poison to discharge discreetly, another reason the material was black. 

Harry threw the patch onto his desk, it thumped.

"Great! It's heavy, too!"

Harry packed up his bag, taking a few of his class projects to work on later, and left the studio. He was shuffling towards the Great Hall where, hopefully, they were still serving lunch. 

He'd made it a few steps down the hall before he heard a familiar voice call out, "Harry, wait up!" 

Ron Weasley was sprinting towards him. Like Tom, Ron was in the Hero Course but wasn't of the same caliber as his client. He had a rough start fitting in with his classmates, so he ended up hanging out and talking with Harry at the studio as he was making his gear at the time. Harry now considered the ginger one of his best friends. 

He stopped, and Ron caught up a second later. 

"H-Hey mate, damn I shouldn't have run over. Snape put us through this bloody obstacle course. Testing agility and shit like that. _Ugh."_ Ron panted, and Harry gave him a second. 

"Yeah? I just got chewed out by his golden child." 

"Oh, Riddle? Aren't you doing that thing for him?" Ron snapped his fingers, trying to recall.

Harry burst out a laugh. 

"Ha! You know I can't talk about it, you ass." Harry playfully shoved him, Ron grinned. "It's got to do with the Sports Festival, so even if Tom is a bigoted dick. He's still a dick who _pays me,_ I won't reveal his secrets." 

"Can't blame me for trying to get a leg up on the competition, Festival's only a month away." Ron was turning red in shame, but Harry didn't take his meddling personally. His best friend had never cracked the Top 5 in the annual contest. Tom won every year since he got to Hogwarts. 

"Yeah, well you wouldn't want me spilling your gadget designs to Riddle either." 

Ron had a strategy quirk, mind focused. It didn't add to his physical performance and worked better in teams; because of this, he spent a lot of time with Harry during their first year, perfecting support items that would put him near the same level as some of the tougher hero students. Ron wasn't like Tom, who switched it up every year. His only request was some tune-ups and updates to what he already had.

Harry sometimes worried his friend only asked for so little because the Weasley's could not provide a substantial budget. Hogwarts provided many materials and resources, but it's expected for the hero student to give a certain amount of money to the support student if they needed to buy something special. It was a part of tuition, but the Weasleys - with their many kids - were a bit stretched thin. Harry would offer one of his discounts for his friend, but Ron could be stubborn and prideful. 

(With Tom, he offered a substantial discount because of merit. Harry wanted to keep working with him after they graduate because only an idiot wouldn't be able to see his potential.) 

"Yeah, yeah... I know you're right. I wouldn't." Ron turned even redder. Harry decided to change the subject. 

"What's up with you and Hermione lately?" 

At the mention of his girlfriend, Ron's mood changed instantly, beaming. "Oh, it's great- we're great. She's bloody brilliant, as usual. I was planning to meet her at the Great Hall, actually." 

Hermione Granger was in the Business Course, studying to take over the companies that would buy and distribute patented gadget designs for their sponsored heroes. Business students could be the butt of the joke sometimes, but Hermione was a force of nature. Top of her course, Harry made sure to get on her good side. Their partnership developed into a genuine friendship, and when Ron came into the mix, the two hit it off. They finally got together over the summer after an excruciating amount of time pining over each other. Mentioning her was a sure proof way to get Ron to cheer up. 

"Well let's go, then. We've been blocking hall traffic talking like this." Ron's smile grew bigger as he set a fast past ahead of Harry. _Someone's caught their breath._

As they approached, Harry noticed Hermione pacing outside of the Great Hall, her bushy hair bouncing as she took each step. She was clearly deep in thought, and Harry prepared for one of her classic rants. 

"Oh there you are, you two! Ron-" When she caught sight of them, Ron ran up and planted a peck on her lips—stopping her short. The two were still in the honeymoon phase, so Harry just ignored it. He was happy to see her calm down a bit at the attention. Maybe they'd be spared.

"You two are _late!_ I've got some food saved from lunch, so you better be thankful. Malfoy was insufferable today in our Hero Branding lecture-" 

Harry tuned her out at the mention of Malfoy. Draco Malfoy was a weaker - and dare he say, more bigoted - version of Tom. The blonde thought himself so much better, hanging off of Riddle as a loyal member of his gang, completely ignoring the fact that the weak quirks which ran through his family bloodline forced them to resort to business. His words in their first meeting still rang in Harry's ear - _well, if you have no quirk, why would anyone trust you to make their gear? You just don't get it without a quirk._ At least Tom wasn't afraid to hire him. He recognized Harry had at least some damn talent, even if he was loathed to admit it. 

They reached their table, a small array of food Hermione saved already set out. Harry plopped down onto his seat; he'd spent all morning working on that fabric and skipped breakfast. He'd wanted to make a dent in Tom's proposal and then work on his other projects in the latter half of the day. It didn't work out, with Tom chewing him out taking up most of his work time. He filled his plate and started stuffing his face. 

Ron seemed to be just as hungry, scarfing down some of his plate the second he settled next to Hermione, much to her distaste. 

"You both eat like pigs," Hermione sighed. Ron wrapped his arm around her waist and planted a messy kiss on her cheek. She spluttered and wiped the leftover chicken grease off of her. Still, she blushed. "Stop that!" 

Harry kept to his plate. 

He'd made it through most of his lunch before he felt a tap on his shoulder. Hermione gasped. Tom Riddle was behind him, uniform impeccable as usual - not a hair out of place. He radiated power, and it used to intimidate Harry, but it wore off after years of working together. 

"Tom." 

"Harold." 

Harry rolled his eyes, "Oh my god. I feel like I have to refuse whatever you're about to ask just based off of that." 

Tom glared, _"Don't you dare._ I'm here to ask for a consultation meeting after dinner tonight about my proposals. I've been reading up on some things and wanted to bounce some ideas off of you." 

"Well, then I'm definitely going to refuse. I don't need you to tell me how to do my job, Tom. I have other shit to do." 

Tom huffed and sat down next to him, shoving Neville Longbottom to the side as he took his place. Red eyes bore into Harry's as they sat uncomfortably close, an intimidation tactic. 

"Harry, as the best hero student in this school-" Harry scoffed at this, Tom continued with even more force, _"you don't want to make an enemy out of me."_

He wasn't wrong. Even if Tom was one of the rudest people Harry ever met, he had connections. Snape, one of the Hero Course professors and a notable pro-hero himself, absolutely adored him. There were rumors he was planning to open a Hero Agency right out of school - Harry wanted in on that. While Harry doubted that Tom would indeed cut him off, he wasn't about to call his bluff. 

Harry slammed his fork next to his plate, "Dammit. Fine, come to my station right after dinner." 

Tom's smile turned sinister, and then he added, "this is going to be a weekly thing, by the way! Until you get it done!" With that, he strode back to his table. _What?_ Harry had half the nerve to shout at the bastard in front of everyone! He bit his tongue. He didn't need the gossip tomorrow about how he, a quirkless support student, got into a screaming match with the golden hero student Tom Riddle. 

Harry tore his eyes away from Tom's retreating figure and went back to his friends. 

Hermione and Ron wore equal faces of shock. Harry and Tom rarely talked outside of the Design Studio, so they didn't get the dynamic. 

"Riddle can be a right bastard when he talks to you Harry." Ron's tone seemed spaced out, trying to comprehend what just happened as his brow furrowed in confusion. 

Hermione added on, "Yes. Well, _I've_ never seen him act that way. He's usually quite polite." Ron agreed with this, and Harry decided not to say that it was likely because they both had quirks (Hermione's was on the weak side - she could manipulate her hair telepathically, but only to the point where she could pick small objects up or gently bat at someone). Harry didn't have anything, so Tom didn't feel the need to be respectful. 

"He's just putting pressure on himself, and in turn on me. It's our last year and he wants to complete his Festival winning streak. He thinks I'm taking too long, and wants to practice with it."

The couple nodded simultaneously and dropped it, still not that convinced. Hermione had a strange glint in her eye as if she was piecing the truth together. It annoyed Harry, and he shoveled the rest of his food into his stomach. He got up to leave. 

"I'm going to get to my dorm, gonna drop off some projects and maybe take a nap during my break."

Support students had a lot more freedom in their studies than the other courses. They learned through apprenticeships and the occasional presentation from their supervisor, Professor McGonagall. 

Harry was relatively left alone in his final year with multiple internships and some apprenticeships under his belt. He had things due, and it was expected for each hero student to have full-proof small and large personal designs ready at the end of each semester. 

Today was one of the two free days during the week, no classes or presentations at all. Usually, a lecture or two took up the day, but on Tuesdays and Thursdays, he set his own pace. He had projects due outside of his commissions that he needed to work on, but Tom's encounter gave him a headache. A nap would help it wear off. 

\---- 

Harry overslept. 

_"Fuck!"_

Checking the time, it looked like there was only half an hour until dinner. One hour until he had to meet with Tom, and he hadn't done anything with the fabric since their horrendous meeting in the morning. 

"Dammit, Dammit, _Dammit!"_ Harry rushed out, his hair even messier than usual, as he shoved on his sneakers and ran to the studio, hoping to make at least some progress to present at the meeting tonight. His personal projects would have to be scrapped for now. _Fuck._

The Hogwarts Design Studio, like much of the school, was an eyesore to behold. The school had once been a Christian boarding school out in Scotland, but when quirks became commonplace, it (like many other institutions) was converted into a hero academy. Now it was a weird conglomerate of modern metal and the original, gothic architecture. This contrast was evident in the studio, which is reinforced with large metal explosion-proof walls and holographic screens. The ceiling, high enough to avoid any explosion risk, was original. 

Harry found charm in it. Tom told him he couldn't stand being there for more than thirty minutes because of it. 

Harry's workplace was off to the side of the studio. It was larger than most, signifying his standing as one of the higher ranking support students. Usually, his space was cluttered with a million little trinkets, but he cleared it earlier to save room when he planned to get into his other projects.

_So much for that._

Harry had no time to modify the fabric, to make it more breathable and lighter to accommodate Tom's demands. It would take hours to go back and research, with time he no longer had. 

So. Harry decided to make more of it. 

Okay, look - Tom is a man who likes to see results. Case in point: this morning, he ragged on Harry for only having a swatch done, completely ignoring the fact that Harry had spent the last month perfecting said swatch.

Harry would give him a damn suit. It wouldn't be a suit that worked, obviously... but they could build off of that. Harry could shove it in his face too - _yes Tom, I made an entire suit for you in one day, which was most certainly not rushed because I obviously am a high-class support designer and not someone you can treat like dirt you absolute -_

He got to work. Harry could fantasize about telling Tom to shove it later. It wouldn't do him any good if he didn't have anything to shove Tom with. 

Harry took out Tom's old suit (an alternative, Tom still had class exercises). Black. Greenish tint. Scaled. Its material so tightly weaved a runaway blade couldn't tear it. 

Tom had trusted Harry to design it completely himself, at the age of sixteen, for some reason. Looking at it now, he could see the rookie mistakes. The suit was too tight near the joints, especially for a hero like Tom, who relied on evasive agility rather than brute strength. It wouldn't allow the hero student's quirk to utilize his poison power without peeling back a part of the suit—a liability in battle. 

The only part Harry wishes to salvage is the breastplate, made of a metal piece shaped to Tom's torso and stamped with a snake print. It would be impossible to remake within the window of time Harry now had. Also, the aesthetic of the suit would come together with the snake print. Harry knew that Tom cared about appearances; he remembered the other stressing during one of their many heated arguments that to be a good hero is to be recognizable. Memorable. Harry hoped the addition of the scaled breastplate was sufficient enough. 

He loaded the fabric sample into one of the more bulky machines, which would analyze the material and design, then produce as much of it as needed to create the design Harry inputted: a stretch suit that fit Tom's measurements. The EA blinking on the machine was fifty minutes, close - but not bad. 

Harry was sewing the plates onto the stretch suit fabric when Tom walked into the studio, his fingers tender and red after his marathon of working. 

"Well, Harry... I'll be damned."

Tom inspected the prototype with a smile on his face, and Harry pointedly ignored the light feeling in his chest at the praise. Tom was awful, but that doesn't get rid of the fact he was the most powerful and promising student at this school, praising him. 

"Yeah, you better be thankful. It cost me time on my assignments. What is it that you want?" After Harry's question, Tom swiped the suit from him with a faraway look in his eye. He tried to stretch the fabric. Harry cringed. 

"This is stiff, Harry, too tight. Not able to output my poison." Tom spoke lightly, and he didn't seem infuriated. It was putting Harry off. He seemed almost happy at his discovery.

"Well, _Tom,_ it's hard to figure out how to fix a fabric design and then produce an entire hero suit from it within the same day." 

Tom's smile only got bigger, "I know how to fix it." 

Harry raised an eyebrow, dubious. Tom was a hero student, and like his Godfather Sirius, he didn't spend a lot of time thinking about support development. Tom was a delegator and a critic, an irritating combination. 

Harry let his pride get the best of him, "I don't need your help, Riddle." 

"Well," Tom pulled a chair out from another station (Seamus - covered in scotch marks) and sat down next to him serenely, "I'd have to disagree. As you've just tried to pass off a _faulty_ suit. Clearly - you need my help." Tom was so goddamn smug. Harry clenched his fist in an attempt to quell his growing desire to punch the guy right in the mouth. 

"You haven't given me any goddamn _time,_ Riddle." 

The use of the last name caught the other off-guard, and he dropped his self-righteous act. Harry didn't call him Riddle because Tom explicitly demanded him not to. It pissed him off or something. 

Tom leaned over, deadly serious: "Or you haven't used your time _correctly,_ Potter. I assumed you'd at least have the basic understanding that I am not a client you wish to lose-" 

Harry stood up abruptly in a rage, almost knocking his chair over. "You are not my fucking priority, Riddle! I have things to do, projects to finish- I am my own person! Not your servant, just because I'm quirkless-" 

"Whoa. Where did _that_ come from? What about you not having a quirk have anything to do with this issue?" Tom seemed incredulous. 

"You're so... so rude! You make sure to be polite to everyone in this school, but me! One of the only quirkless students here! You purposefully give me challenging proposals and just expect complete devotion! Acting as if my only purpose every day should be completing it." Harry was spitballing at this point, a release of tension that had been building up for weeks since Tom initially proposed the idea. 

"I do it because I believe you _can complete it!_ You're the only person I trust with this, with anything! You're angry I'm not more polite with you? That I don't keep you at arm's length like every other person in my life? It's not because you're quirkless; my mother was quirkless!" Tom was screaming now, face turning uncharacteristically red. He usually kept his cool, even when responding with a biting quip. 

It was the last part that caught Harry off-guard, rooted to the spot. At that moment, he didn't know what to say. "Your mother?" 

_"Yes!_ My Dad fucking left her because of it. Not that I care, of course. But don't you dare imply that I'm myself with you only because I think you're inferior. I value your partnership more than anyone else in this shitty school!" Tom was huffing, face as red as a tomato. When he registered what he said, he stepped back. He looked ready to run. 

"Okay, okay. I'll be honest that I had no idea you felt this way-" Tom scoffed as if the idea that he cared for Harry wasn't something completely left field. Harry continued, "but I think we should work this out. I care about keeping this... _business_ partnership as well. I- I appreciate you for being so honest." 

"Well, it wouldn't have happened if you weren't so _ludicrous."_ Harry held back a smile at the usual quip, taking mercy on the very uncomfortable Tom, who was currently shifting his feet every second. The hero student took a deep breath, _"But,_ I understand your complaint. I've been... crass. I think I've been using you as an outlet for my annoyance that I feel towards others at this school—people like Malfoy, who spit at people like you and my mother. It isn't fair to you." 

Harry cracked a smile, offering an olive branch. "Well. I'm not too fond of Malfoy either. We could bitch about him together at these meetings. As you said, they're gonna be weekly, gotta fill the time somehow... between swapping ideas."

"So you do want to hear my advice?" 

"Advice is a bit condescending, Tom. I do know what I'm doing, and I know you know that. I want your input, rather. I trust you."

Tom's eyes widened like saucers at the end, the once fading red blush coming back with a vengeance. Harry could hardly believe he was saying it either. But he did trust Tom, despite his arrogance. Harry knew he was capable and one of the most (if not the most) intelligent students at Hogwarts. A strange warmth grew in his chest as he realized that Tom must feel the same way, with what he admitted. 

"I trust you too." Tom knew he didn't have to repeat it, but he did. They sat back down in their seats. Harry resisted the strange urge to grab Tom's arm and assist him. As if their argument made Tom fragile in some way. It kind of did, bearing his past to Harry in a way the other doubted he had ever before. 

\-------

After their confrontation, that meeting and those that came after went off without a hitch. When Tom stopped insulting him and instead started confiding in Harry, it was as if he was a different person. He'd talk to Harry about everything from his drills for that day to describing how Malfoy uncannily looked like a ferret. Harry found himself laughing more and more. Tom was _funny._

He found himself the week before the Sports Festival, dreading the end of their weekly meetings. The suit was basically finished, but Tom kept bringing up the smallest issues to (as Harry suspected) keep the sessions going long after they were needed. Harry didn't even mind, despite it eating up his work time. 

To celebrate their last meeting, Harry decided to smuggle in a beer pack to the Design Studio. As he said, it wasn't like they really had anything to do.

Tom was there already, feet kicked up on Harry's desk. It was a testament to how close they'd become that he wasn't even annoyed and that Tom had made sure to carefully clear his desk beforehand. The hero student saw the drinks clutched in his hand and grinned. 

"Is that an early-congratulations gift, Harry? Jumping the gun a bit." 

Harry laughed, "It was more a farewell to these meetings, though they probably should've ended ages ago. Still, it isn't as if you're going to lose." 

Tom smirked at that. His eyes seemed to dissect Harry. 

"I enjoy your confidence in me very much." 

Harry suppressed a blush (something he seemed to do a lot lately) and tossed a beer to Tom. He caught it immediately, reaction time off the charts with the aid of his quirk. Harry pulled up a chair (again, Seamus's) and sat next to him. 

"Ay, give that here." Tom's fingers bloomed with dark green, hard scales. He popped the cap of his own beer with his quirk before gesturing at Harry to pass him his own bottle to save him the trouble. Harry obeyed. 

The bottle opened quickly under the strain of Tom's near-impenetrable scales. Foam bubbled, and Tom promptly passed the bottle back, his scales disappearing as if they were an illusion. 

"Thanks for that." 

"No problem." 

They took long swigs in silence before Tom launched into his now-usual chronicles of events during the week. He won the practice sparring matches, using the new suit to deploy his poison. Snape purposefully made him not the Captain in one of the team exercises to annoy him. Malfoy tried to show off his quirk during breakfast, and it backfired in his face. 

Harry offered his input and even told his own stories. He usually let Tom do the talking, though. It was clear the other was distant from most people. Harry had Ron and Hermione, Tom didn't have (and didn't really want) anyone else. 

He only wanted Harry. 

Harry decided to ignore the feeling blooming in his chest at that realization. Going back to Tom's story, now centered around something about a classmate. He accompanied his story with large gestures, speech starting to slur. Tom was clearly a bit of a lightweight, only on his second beer. Hero Students didn't really have time to party, especially someone like Tom, who had a lot of pressure on their shoulders to be the best. Harry could relate and felt a bit buzzed as he nursed his drink. 

"Are you even listening to me?" Tom didn't seem angry as he questioned him, more lazily - drunkenly - amused. 

"Of- Of course! You were saying, uhm-" Harry wasn't really paying attention. More watching Tom as he got lost in the story, the movement of his lips as he told it. Pretty, pink lips- 

"I think I gotta teach you a lesson, Harry. About listening." Tom sat up in his chair, leaning over to leer at the other. The amused glint in his eye didn't do anything to quell the fluttering that instantly burst through Harry's chest. 

"A- A lesson?" 

"Yeah. A lesson." 

With that, Tom went over and connected their lips with a peck. Harry squeaked. Tom pulled away,

"You want this?" 

Harry couldn't say he hadn't thought (fantasized) about it, "Sure."

Tom connected their lips again. The kiss was wet and messy, uncoordinated - their mouths tasted bitter with alcohol. It was Harry's first kiss, but he suspected it wasn't Tom's. The hero student slipped his tongue into Harry's mouth effortlessly with a moan, hand tightening around the back of the other's neck. Locking them in place. 

It was as if a thousand butterflies were battering against Harry's ribs, sending little sparks coursing throughout his body as he continued to kiss Tom. Ron once said that all first kisses were awkward and a bit horrible, but at the moment, Harry couldn't think of something farther from the truth. It was _perfect._

His teeth clacked against Tom with inexperience, but it just bolstered the other further. Their chairs were touching at this point, and Tom reached over to lift Harry into his lap. He bit back a moan. Tom's quirk made him quite strong, and the show of power causing heat to lance at his stomach.

They broke apart after what felt like a lifetime, both of them panting red-faced. Harry blushed at the unabashed devotion shining in Tom's red eyes. The chair creaked under the weight of both of them, and Harry quickly scrambled out of the other's grip. He was unsure of what to say. 

Tom spoke up.

"I really enjoyed that." 

Harry snorted at his bluntness, "I did too." 

"Can we do it again?" Tom's demeanor became apprehensive, hinging on Harry's answer. 

Harry bit back a smile, "Only if you win the Sport's Festival." He ran his foot up the other's leg, a new show of confidence over the power he held over the other. 

Tom registered his response and broke out into a borderline sinister grin, "I'll make sure too, Harold." 

"Okay, now you get no more kisses." 

"Oh, as if you aren't already shaking with anticipation for the next." 

"You know, I won't confirm or deny." 

\-----

Harry was off to the sidelines in the Festival Arena. Tom grinned down at him from his place at the podium, first place. Ron waved from the third-place spot, and Harry was very proud - even if he had other things on his mind. Like Tom, who was currently hopping down and cutting off Headmaster Dumbledore in the middle of his congratulatory speech.

Tom strode right up to him and kissed him right on the lips. The crowd roared in the background. Harry swore he could faintly hear Ron curse in the background. They broke apart, and Tom took off his medal. Placing the chunky gold around Harry's neck, pressing it to his chest with his hand. 

"Couldn't have won this without your suit and your... _motivation,_ you deserve this. I've got plenty." Tom punctuated it with a wink. 

Harry cackled and batted at the other's chest, "Who knew you were such a goddamn _sap."_

In truth, he was endeared. In reality, they'd kissed many times in the days coming up to the Festival; but those times weren't as special as right now, unashamedly showing the school (and the world, who tuned into the Festival every year) that they were together as a team, quirkless and not. Powerful prodigies, ready to take over the hero game. 

Harry couldn't wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Sports Festival: Basically kid Olympics where students show off and battle each other with their quirks. 
> 
> Support Course: Students learning how to make hero gadgets. 
> 
> Business Course: Run hero businesses that employ and manage heroes. 'Hero Agencies"
> 
> If you like this fic I have other ideas and AUs that I'm interested in writing. So stick around for that!


End file.
